Winter Estates
by FireStorm00X
Summary: Draco Malfoy lives in the largest manor at Winter Estates and has for his whole life. Harry Potter is a reject in a small house they've owned for barely three years. FULL SUMMARY WITHIN. Nonmagic, AU. SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**Extended summary:**

**Draco Malfoy has lived in Winter Estates his entire life. His family is well-respected, rich and influential and he is perfectly happy to be the perfect son. Draco attends the Vernal Academy, the best private school in the area. He has top scores and will, at the age of eleven (two years mind you) be attending the best school in all of Europe: Hogwarts School for Young Lords and Ladies.**

**The only problem is that he would not be able to observe that strange little boy from down teh hill; Harry Potter.**

**Harry Potter has lived in WInter Estates for all of three years. He is the reject nephew of a social climber with a long neck, a drunken walrus and the cousin of a small hippo. He attends the same private school as his cousin only through a great tuition and the good will of his relatives. His relatives are speaking of sending he and Dudley off to some boarding school.**

**The only good thing about that is that, perhaps with luck, he could befriend that strange, elegant ice dragon; Draco Malfoy.**

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**This is a non-magic AU, hope you don't mind TOO much, if you do..uh…you should probably read something else. This is also SLASH (male/male pairings) and there may be FEMSLASH (female/female pairings) involved. Again, if you do not like it, look elsewhere.**

**I know this has been done before, many times but please, bear with me. I'm taking a stab at it with a butter knife and hoping to chip of a piece of goodness.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own or claim to own any characters or places. I am twisting them around to fit my own little imagination. I don't like disclaimers so this is for the entire story. Thank-you.

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Lucius swirled his Chianti irritably, he hated PTA meetings. He had only ever attended three in as many years since he and his wife enrolled their son in the small, private school. He especially hated hosting the dragging functions.

These fussing, worrying parents parked in his driveway, drank his liquor and ate his brie. They invaded his home, his domain. To top it all off that giraffe necked, big-toothed woman who called herself the head of the association took over and seemed to think it gave her supreme power. She was the mother of a small elephant or more accurately a particularly ugly whale. She was married to a much larger version of the same beast and Lucius dreaded the very thought of _that _union. She managed, somehow, to drag her offspring to the function though he sat, uninvolved, on a chair playing with some little electronic toy.

Lucius looked at all the other parents and felt the insistent urge to have them all removed immediately. He held out his glass and a servant immediately refilled it. A parent called for another beer and it was brought.

Narcissa usually attended these things but she was in Avingon and could no be bothered to fly home. Thus he was left to host and attend. The woman, Dursley, clapped her boney hands.

"Calm down everyone," she gave them one of her toothy smiles. This would eventually devolve into squabbling over whose child could finger-paint better. She would insist her whale could do so best. Should anyone argue their invitation to the next meeting would somehow be _lost_. It was the only redeeming quality to the woman.

They hushed and turned to her.

"Let's get down to business," she glanced down at her notes and another smile crossed her features, "The bake-sale was a success if I do say."

Several mothers smiled and acknowledged her gestures and mentions of tarts or lemon squares.

Nonsense.

Lucius looked away, out the window and over the lawn of his manor home. The sun was low already, a sign of winter sure to come. It made his grass look golden and for a moment he did not mind so much. The chatter ceased and he looked up.

The doorway into the hall was occupied by a small, white figure.

No older than ten the young boy cocked his head to the side and stared at them all. He was a smaller version of his father but with a more elegant, feminine quality that did not detract from his aristocratic appearance.

"Draco," Lucius raised his brows at his son.

"Terribly sorry father," he said.

"Would you like to join us?"

"Oh no sir," he shook his head and long white hair fell before silver eyes, "I was just on my way to the library. I did not intend to interrupt."

"Go on then," Lucius motioned and the boy, with a small bow to the guests, walked off.

Petunia Dursley observed the boy and smiled; he was a year or two younger than her son Dudley but with a father like Lucius he would be a great friend. She would have to mention it to the boy when they arrived home.

Winter Estates was the nicest development in the whole of the South of England. Each house, or manor rather, had a large yard, both front and back, and this house was by far the largest. Petunia and her husband had just purchased their small property just a few years ago, three years that November actually. This family, the Malfoy family, had owned their house since Winter Estates was built in 1903 but the family had been prominent in the area for a century or more prior.

Lucius was still the most revered man in society, on par with the Prime Minister and the Queen herself. He ran with a crowd of very, very important people.

"Was that your son?" someone asked.

"Yes," Lucius resisted the urge to roll his eyes, who else would it be?

"He seems very polite."

"He is," Lucius gave a false smile and turned to Petunia, "Shall we?"

"Oh yes," she nodded.

The front door slammed.

Narcissa was home early.

"Lucius," she entered the parlor and stopped, "Ah, the PTA meeting, I nearly forgot. It is lovely to see you all but, if I may steal my husband for a moment."

Lucius stood and left the room with her. They closed the doors and moved away from them a bit.

"What?"

She just smiled, "Hate them?" She put her hands around his neck, resting them there.

He made a noise in the back of his throat and put his hands on her waist, "As I hate pond scum. Why do we attend these pointless meetings?"

"It is good to be involved with school. It is that or we actually volunteer for something…like after-school care or some such nonsense." She twirled some of his white hair between her fingers.

Lucius nearly cringed, "Fine but I refuse to spend any more time with that rat of a woman."

"Who? Petunia?" Narcissa wrinkled her nose at the name.

"Whatever her name is," he waved her off, "I don't like her in my house."

"I don't like her in _her_ house, much less in our own," she smiled. "I shall see the meeting out."

He nodded, "Oh, how was France?"

"Fine," she smiled, "We'll discuss it later."

"But of course," he nodded. She kissed him and went back in, smiling sweetly.

Lucius left, thankful, and found the library. Upon entering he saw his son, his pride, lying on the floor with three versions of the same text writing notes and chewing on his lower lip as he had a habit of doing.

"Draco?"

"Yes father?" he said without looking up.

"What are you doing?"

"Working on my Latin, as you asked," he smiled, "You see here?"

Lucius went over and sat by his child. One copy was Latin, one was English and the third was French. "What is that passage?"

Draco observed it, "Oh, I just finished that," he looked to his notes, " 'When the moon is in the house of the snake the children of the Pisces will feel a strong draw to the ocean and, when the moon leaves this house, they will be repulsed in the same way.'"

Lucius looked it over and confirmed its truth, "Good work Draco, you'll be translating without help soon enough. I see you are working on French as well."

"Of course, two birds with one stone," he smiled and turned back to the books. "How was the meeting?"

"Your mother has returned and taken over. You know I cannot stand such things."

Draco nodded, "That horrid woman was there, yes?"

"Which one?"

Draco smirked, "Mrs. Dursely. She's always trying to make her…pet hippo play with me or be my friend. God knows I don't need another friend, especially not one like him."

Lucius nodded, "She's a rather power hungry thing isn't she?"

Draco nodded back, "I assume she wishes to make a connection between our families and play into our circle of society. She seems like a social climber to the 'nth degree."

"Learning exponents already?"

Draco smiled in response.

"Father," he said after a moment.

"Yes?"

"Have you and mother ever considered having another child?"

Lucius was caught off-guard but he smiled, "We have the perfect son, anything else would be a disappointment."

Draco rolled onto his back to give his father an odd look, he then broke into a giggle. "You're quite silly father."

"I am not," Lucius responded.

Draco just smiled, "You're working tomorrow, correct?"

Lucius nodded, "We'll go to the stables tomorrow afternoon to check up on your horse but I must work in the morning."

"That is all right," Draco smiled. "I think I will walk to the park and explore."

Lucius allowed it, "Make sure to take a guard with you."

"Of course," Draco could not imagine going anywhere without his bodyguard. They were a little conspicuous at school but no one questioned as his often associated with the guards that protected his friends as well. His best friends Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and Theodore all had their own.

Lucius stood, "I'm going to bed, women tire me."

Draco nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good-night Dragon."

"Good-night father."

Lucius left his son and found his way up hidden stair ways to the master bedroom.

Draco remained in the library, working diligently for a little while until he felt urged to see what the parents were talking about.

He slid to the edge of the parlor and listened in.

"I think we should hold a little get-together for all our children," Petunia was saying, "Year fives and year fours how 'bout?"

The mothers looked at Narcissa and Narcissa raised her ivory brows, "What would they do Mrs. Dursley? Would this be a play-date or a party?"

She smiled wide and Draco found himself thinking of her as an awkward, meager horse trying to masquerade as a show horse, an elegant creature. She was not very good at it, not at all. "I thought perhaps it would simply be an opportunity to see each other outside of school."

"Our children are old enough to decide who they want to see off campus. Draco invites over friends and so I see no real reason for such a gathering. It would do little but cause chaos, stress and hassle to those of us who work. Carting our children around, while important, is not the focus for everyone here."

All of the fathers present agreed and many mothers as well.

"We do so much for the school already, it is nice to have an evening home with our children," a mother commented and Petunia shot her a look she would not have dared to send Narcissa.

The parents murmured, agreeing mostly and Narcissa nodded, finishing her husband's abandoned Chianti.

"Is there anything else?"

Down the hill, in a much smaller estate, a small boy sat on a couch flipping though channels on the television. He was full, for once, and content to relax for a while more. His aunt and cousin were at that meeting and his uncle refused to be alone with him so he went out drinking.

Harry, the small boy, was glad for some time alone. He was not washing dishes, floors, windows or doing the laundry or dusting as he was when Petunia or Vernon were home.

He looked around the house and sighed.

His parents were gone, long gone. Their murder was a huge shock to the small town he was born in and where he lived. His aunt and uncle, unwillingly, allowed him to live with them.

"Welcome to Uncle Joe's Fun House!" a man in white face paint popped on screen. A flashing sign lowered behind him and he cart-wheeled across the stage.

Harry flipped the channel immediately, he hated those shows.

Dudley watched them all the time and guffawed at the clowns that hit each other with bats and the grotesque little creatures or puppets they paraded around. He found a show on with a trio of women discussing menopause and quickly changed it again.

The phone ran a moment later and he answered.

"Hello, Petunia?"

"No, she's not here, may I take a message?"

"Oh, it's Edgar down here at the tavern. Vernon's much to drunk to drive home, Harry right? Well, send your aunt down here real soon, he's causing a scene. Okay?"

"I'll phone her at the meeting sir, she'll be there soon I'm sure."

"Thanks," Edgar hung up and Harry did too. The bar keep was a very nice man and knew Harry only through phone conversations but he liked the boy so far.

Harry searched for the contact sheet Aunt Petunia kept around. Where was the meeting that night? He glanced at the schedule taped to the cupboard; Malfoy Estate, 12 December Road, Winter Estates. That was just up the hill a little but Harry decided calling would be best. He rung the house.

"Malfoy Estate," a young woman answered.

"Hello, this is Harry Potter, is my aunt Petunia Dursley there?"

"They're in the meeting," she said, "I'll ask her to speak with you though, please hold."

Harry waited.

"Mrs. Dusley?"

"Yes?" the woman looked up from her folder.

"Your nephew is on the phone."

She stood and went to the phone in the hall, she pursed her lips and waited for the servant girl to walk away.

"What is it boy?"

"Edgar called, ma'am, Uncle Vernon is at the tavern again and too drunk to drive home. He asked that you come pick Uncle Vernon up."

She sighed and then glanced back at the room, "Fine, don't talk or do anything until I come home. It had best be spotless or you'll be in serious trouble, boy."

"Yes ma'am," and she hung up. Harry replaced the phone and turned the house. He had not touched anything so he went about straightening the furniture.

"So sorry," Petunia entered the parlor, "My nephew isn't feeling well, I'll have to leave. Nice to see you all again, see you in a couple weeks."

They chorused good-bye and she dragged Dudley out. Petunia turned a vicious red as she drove, quickly, down the hill and out of the iron gate. Down the street, a block or four away she saw the sign to the Egg Head tavern.

She strode in, ordering her son to stay where he was. Vernon saw her and slobbered drunkenly.

"Dear," she smiled and grabbed his meaty arm, "Let's go."

"Thank-you," Edgar nodded to her and resumed cleaning the glasses.

She steered the much larger man out and into the car.

"What were you thinking?" she hissed and got in.

He grumbled and fell asleep where he sat.

Petunia drove home, left Vernon where he was and dragged Dudley inside.

"Pumpkin, why don't you go to bed? You have school tomorrow," she smiled at him and Dudley just lumbered away, he could care less.

"Boy," she called and Harry appeared from the kitchen.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Your uncle is in the car, make sure he gets in." she turned and walked upstairs to her room then.

"Yes ma'am," he murmured and went to the door.

"When are the next elections for head of the PTA?" a mother asked.

Several other parents made sounds of agreement. Narcissa gave a tiny smile, "They can be called whenever the general assembly wishes."

"I call for an election, next meeting," a mother said, standing.

"I second that," someone agreed.

Narcissa looked around, "Why didn't we do this when our president was here?"

"Then everyone but her supporters would 'lose' their information."

"What supporters?"

Everyone laughed.

"Listen," Narcissa stood, "If we're going to oust her we need someone better to replace her. Who?"

"You."

"No," she said in the same voice she used on her son.

"Mrs. Weasley then," the whole room turned to the plump, cheerful woman. She stood and smiled to them.

"I don't know that I'm the best choice."

"You're the senior member," they countered, "You've had six children at the school and been in the PTA for nearly a decade. Your seventh child will be enrolling next year which means you'll be part of the PTA for at least another eight years. You'd be a wonderful leader. You know the school, the faculty, the administration, the needs and goals. Please?"

She mulled it over. "Fine."

"Next meeting we'll have a secret ballot and our new president will be declared."

Narcissa smiled, good. She loathed that woman and had no tolerance for her son or husband either. Her nephew…he she did not know.

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**That went well, don't you think.**

**If it is worth continuing, let me know. I'll certainly write more. This is partially here to help take my mind of the grand plot web that is _Turning you into Someone New._ That thing, I love it and the reviewers to death, it just takes so much out of me and I like babbling about other things sometimes. So here it is.**

**Love it**

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**Whatever, tell me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow you guys like this story. I'm glad, I like it too. :)**

**That's that.**

**Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews and support and amazing-ness. Kay, Great…enjoy!**

**TWO DAYS LATER**

**MONDAY**

"Have a good day," Narcissa looked over her son with a careful eye. His white and red tie was perfect and the rest of the uniform clean and pristine, as always. His jacket was secure, bags and lunch pail clean and full of necessities. She looked at the muscle bound guard and they exchanged a nod.

"I shall see you this afternoon mother," Draco stood on tip and she bent down to receive her kiss on the cheek. He and the guard walked out and entered the black Mercedes that idled patiently in the drive.

Narcissa waited until the car cleared the drive before she turned back into her home. Lucius had gone not twenty minutes ago and now she was alone in the house until her duties called her away.

She was usually commissioned to plan and execute the grand parties and balls of the royal family and politicians in London. Narcissa smiled, people thought she just slacked off all day, why, if that were the case she would be a fat, piggish woman and most likely bald.

The very thought was distressing. She left it in the hall and swept into her study. A large oil painting of her son stood proud above the glowing fireplace. He was eight in the painting and already a dazzling young man. She smiled, how Lucius loved to brag that Draco was _his _boy. 'Just look at us,' he would shout and press their cheeks together. It was true; Draco took after his father in most every way. The hair, skin, eyes, build, and intelligence, if she did not know better Lucius could have cloned himself.

Narcissa was quite proud, though, of the distinct impression she made on her son. Where Lucius was sharp and squared her son was softer and curved. Draco had his mother's feminine grace and elegance, like a small angel. Lucius did not mind though, he thought his son to be his greatest achievement.

"Come in," she responded to the knock and turned to see Petunia Dursley at the door to her study.

Narcissa controlled her urge to have the woman removed.

"Ah, Petunia, what may I help you with?"

Petunia flew in at the question; she seated herself without having been asked and had a servant bring her tea and a croissant.

"Well?" Narcissa roamed around to her desk and slid into the dark chair.

"It came as quite a shock, you know, to hear someone's called for a secret ballot at the next PTA meeting," Petunia said and sipped the tea.

Narcissa did not have the patience for this woman. It was barely eight AM and she would speak until eight PM if she was not stopped, immediately.

"Petunia, I'm sure they mean well, whoever they are," she stood again and gave a small gesture to her assistant. "I have a meeting in London and really must leave. We'll speak at the next meeting."

Petunia made an odd, squawking noise and she escorted from the room and house all together. It was not so much an escort as she was hoisted from her chair and dragged out the door.

"Good day, madam," the guard nodded, not politely mind you, to her and then shut the door.

Narcissa looked around; it was rare that she was so rude.

"Good morning class," Madam Lavore stood before her class with her hands clasped before her. "What shall we begin with?" she asked herself and peered at her class.

The front row was full of the smaller children or those with glasses. The silent little Potter boy was in the front corner, by the window and he was often caught staring across the dark green lawn or at the sky. Farther back sat the larger children or those who simply had the authority to choose their own place.

Draco Malfoy chose his. Centre back, second to last row. He shared a work station with that odd Zabini boy. Blaise was his name. He was taller than most of the children and he had a dancer's build, long legs and arms and a long neck, beautiful ebony skin and wild black hair.

Across the aisle sat the Parkinson heiress, she was sharp witted and very intelligent. She knew the only way she could contend with the boys of her class was to be as smart and as ruthlessly witty as they. She sat with Theodore Nott. Theo was a shy child who kept mostly to himself but scored nearly perfectly on every test. Madam Lavore found that odd but let it be.

Vincent and Gregory sat to the other side of Draco and Blaise. They were large and lumbering and seemed to be the muscle of the group. Their test scores reflected that assumption but they seemed to offer more than that.

Madam Lavore gave a small smile as the silly little red haired boy rushed in late, as usual.

Draco watched him, head cocked to the side, and smirked as he took his seat just behind, in the last row. Ronald Weasley was the youngest brother of seven children. His family lived close to the bottom of the hill and wore second hand uniforms and brought their lunches in paper sacks. His mother was a darling woman though and he was not too bad himself. Draco turned and raised his eyebrows, waiting an explanation.

"Fred and George set off a stink-bomb in the house," Ron breathed between words, he was flushed from running up the stairs.

"Ah," Draco turned back to the front of the room.

Madam had begun to write on the board in her rigid, cursive writing and was uttering some nonsense about changing the times for lunch and play. Draco tuned her out and found his book. Blaise pulled out a heavy copy of a historical journal and began reading as well.

Much of Madam Lavore's year fives were self learners. The Winter children, for that is what children who lived in the Winter Estates were called, usually taught themselves. They read or wrote or did work during class while some students, Ron for instance, tried desperately to keep up with that woman and her tangents and misfiring questions.

An hour or two later Draco glanced up from his translation and the only thing that caught his eye was the small Potter boy in the front corner. He was that wretched whale-boy's cousin. They did not look a thing like each other.

This boy, Harry, was very fragile looking, like one of the porcelain dolls Pansy's grandmother bought her. They sat on the shelf, wide eyed, and watched the world passively, untouchable. Draco liked the boy, he was fascinating. At play time Harry sat in the patches of clover and searched out ones with four-leaves or he sat inside and read. Draco thought this odd, he and his friends would play, as children did. They would talk to the other year fours from Madam Cush's class.

Draco thought the way he moved, so timidly, was charming, almost adorable but Draco hated the word and refused to apply it.

Harry felt the eyes on him but was scared to turn around and face them. It could be Goyle or Crabbe and, though they'd never spoken before, the two large boys could want something to hit.

Draco continued to stare and think the boy over. Madam clapped her hands together and broke his attention.

"It is time for silent write time," she called.

The students pulled notebooks from their bags and flipped open to new pages. Harry looked out the window for inspiration but found none. For days now he was left staring a lined sheet of paper with nothing to write about. The words abandoned him.

He muttered a curse and stared at the lines, willing them to swirl up unto letters or an image. Finally he jotted down some horrid adjective riddled poem and closed the notebook. Madam scolded children who had nothing to show for silent writing time.

Harry felt it safe to look behind him. Crabbe and Goyle were concentrating on their writing but someone else was watching Harry.

The Malfoy son. _The_ Winter Child.

Harry caught his steel colored eyes, they locked for a second before Harry turned quickly away.

Draco saw this, raised one brow and turned back to his prose. It was the story of a man, a powerful Lord, falling from power to poverty and finding himself living off the grace of a seer with eyes the color of jewels. It was an interesting distraction from translations and arithmetic and geology.

Draco looked at the writing. He'd been going on for over a page about the seer, all the same general ideas but phrased a hundred different ways. All it spoke of, really, was the dark hair and brilliant eyes, the hands and build of the seer. Draco frowned, in reading it over he found himself describing the boy in the front row. He glanced at Blaise's writing, a drawing, as usual. Some vicious looking tribal woman with a scythe was crouching in a jungle, the grass around her feet grew as Draco watched, Blaise extended the lines up and gave them shadows.

He sensed the eyes and looked up, his dark brown eyes met his friends', "Like it?"

"Quite, who is she?"

"No one, someone, I don't know," Blaise shrugged and closed the notebook.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered from behind them, "What's a four letter word for attraction?"

"Love?"

"Thanks," Ron wrote that down.

"Crossword?" Blaise leaned back and saw the page of the paper spread across his desk.

"Yeah," Ron nodded and moved on, biting his bottom lip.

"Hmm," Blaise nodded and turned back to Madam.

She was writing out arithmetic problems on the board. "Oi, Draco, did you get that new book in?"

"The Year Nine book?"

"That one," Blaise peered over his shoulder as Draco removed it from his bag. They were four years ahead of their grade but Madam did not notice, not really.

"We've entered Chapter four," Madam said, revealing a massive text, "It has to do with long division," she said the world like some grand theorem. She turned to the board and wrote up a problem. "Does anyone have any ideas for solving this?"

Ron put aside his paper and stared that numbers, "Bollocks," he swore. "Guys?" he nudged them.

"What?" Draco looked up.

"How?" he pointed.

Blaise looked at it and barely a second later spoke the answer, "Fifteen."

"What?" Madam turned back to the class, bewildered.

Blaise cleared his throat and focused on the sheet of paper before him.

Draco did not look up until someone tapped his desk with a ruler.

"Madam?"

"What are you doing?"

Draco felt suddenly put on the spot, she had never singled him, or his friends out.

"Arithmetic," he answered steadily.

"What kind?" she peered at him.

"Year Nine," he admitted, "Our fathers like us to work ahead."

She nodded curtly and returned to the board.

"Odd," Blaise raised his brows.

"Very," Draco agreed.

"What was that?" Pansy leaned across the aisle.

"No idea," Draco shook his head at her.

Pansy gave them a nod and turned to the board, observing their teacher with a sharp eye.

Draco nodded to himself, Pansy would handle this. Being the female of the group Pansy was viciously protective. She was no older than any of the others but she guarded her place in their ranks.

She knew they would never leave her, they would always be her comrades but that did not put her any more at ease about being the only girl. Draco loved her as if she were his sister; Blaise and Theo were the same. Vince and Greg were, admittedly, less fond of her but they accepted her and enjoyed her company nonetheless.

"I heard your mum is going to take over the PTA," Blaise whispered to Ron.

"She came home and told Da the whole story, all about the meeting and the other twittering women and blah, blah," Ron shrugged, "That vile woman needs a good kick in the arse anyways."

"Mrs. Dursley?" Draco asked.

The conversation stalled as Ron was called on to answer the question.

When he finished he nodded, hoarsely whispering, "Yes, I've only met her a couple times but she's a right witch."

Draco nodded, "She wants her whale-boy to be our friend. She's a social climber, or wants to be, and she's always inviting herself over to the house and making excuses to leave her fat spawn with us for a few hours. She wants us to be friends."

Blaise stifled a laugh. He was raised with Draco, born just days apart they learnt to walk, speak, read and write together. Blaise knew Draco and Draco chose his friends very carefully. He did not waste his time on anyone he did not trust or who did not care about him. This woman was wasting her time.

"Look," Ron nodded his chin towards the front of the room.

The dark haired Potter boy was standing at the board solving a particularly difficult equation. He finished, silent, and returned to his seat. Madam checked his work and smiled, "Good."

Blaise looked at the board, calculated and nodded, "He did that correctly. Year Seven work, that is."

Draco nodded, "Why did she ask him to do a Year Seven problem?"

"Looks like it integrated long division, multiplication and an exponent. She's trying to tie it into other things we've been working on," Blaise turned back to the sheet of numbers before him. "What is eight plus twelve?"

"Twenty," Draco smiled. Blaise could manage huge numbers and complex functions mentally but simple addition made him stall.

"Thanks love," Blaise wrote it out, calculated and moved on.

"Nerd," Draco whispered.

Blaise shot him a look, "Mama's boy."

Draco returned the look, "Are you trying to start a fight?"

"Maybe," Blaise's dark eyes lit with mischief.

"Tell me something," Draco leaned towards him, "Did the package arrive?"

Blaise matched his smirk, "Yes." His word was a hiss, sinking into the air around them and shattering into a thousand possibilities.

Draco glanced across the aisle at the black haired girl. She felt his gaze and looked up at him. She raised an eyebrow and read his expression.

"Tonight," he hissed and she nodded.She knew exactly what was going on.


	3. Chapter 3

Outside the Malfoy Manor, on the expansive front lawn, six children were crowded around something. They argued in whispers and shifted simultaneously. Twelve arms worked and twelve eyes checked each other's work. They moved quickly and, in an instant, a spark lit and the six ran for cover behind a hand made blockade of hay bails.

They peered at their creation. A foot tall rocket, the fuse disappearing as fire ate it away. It was pointed towards the sky, glorious.

The gates at the end of the drive swung open and two figures began walking up towards the house.

Draco leaned over a bail and examined them, "Dursley and her whale," he said the other five groaned inwardly.

"SHIT!" Pansy screamed and pointed at the rocket. The fuse was nearly gone but the backbone was tilting, falling.

By the time the fuse was gone the rocket was pointed directly at the two people walking up the driveway.

They were scared silent as the rocket engines lit and it shot away, scorching the grass as it flew, inclining slightly.

Petunia Dursley noticed the orange painted rocket just in time to duck. It singed away most of her hair but she had thrown herself to the ground, screaming bloody murder. The rocket flew higher and higher, careening every which way until the engines burned to the fireworks.

The rocket exploded magnificently in eight different colors and a thousand directions.

"Woah," Blaise grinned at it.

Dudley was crying and that detracted from the awe of the explosion. His piggish squeals permeated the air in between booms and whizzes. Draco grinned at the sight until the door to the Manor flew open and three guards came running at them.

The six screamed, leapt the hay bails and booked it for the small grove of trees that housed their fort. One guard broke off and went to Mrs. Dursley, he helped her stand and led her inside. The other two pursued the children into the woods, darting around thick, ancient trees.

The children were fast and reached the safe house before the guards. They ran into the trunk of the tree and pulled the concealing door closed. The camouflaged elevator began to descend towards their underground haven and was mostly there when the guards activated the emergency stop.

Draco wrinkled his nose.

"I hate it when they think they've outsmarted us."

Pansy opened the trap door in the bottom corner and wrapped her legs around the cable. Crabbe and Goyle followed her, then Theo, Draco and Blaise.

After a moment of shimmying down the steel cable and they reached the bottom. Inside the intercom was blaring already.

"DRACONIS LUCIUS MALFOY! You get your arse back here this instant! How dare you set off a rocket, on our front lawn, and nearly kill that woman!" His mother's voice was coming in very loudly. There was scuffling in the background and her voice lowered. "Dear, are you there?"

Draco answered, "Yes ma'am."

"Oh, good," he could tell she was smiling as she spoke, "Mrs. Dursley has been escorted to one of the sitting rooms and her child to a guest room, he's soiled himself and fainted. Oh, darling," she stifled a laugh, "That woman has three strands of hair left, the rest is singed down to peach fuzz."

Their jaws dropped and laughter filled the underground room. "Are you certain mother?"

"Yes," she answered, "Two strands by one ear and one strand by the other."

Draco laughed and heard his mother laughing as well.

"Are you mad?"

"No dear, not really, I'm more amazed that you did such a thing. You can spend the night out there but come in first thing in the morning for breakfast and so you may be ready for school. Should I have a maid sent out with dinner for you all?"

"Yes please," Draco smiled. The intercom switched off and he turned to his friends.

"I cannot believe she's not mad," Pansy smiled in disbelief.

"She _is_ Draco's mum, she's never mad at us," Crabbe smirked.

They nodded and Draco shrugged, "If it were a different person she would be upset but not of it is that witch woman. I'm hardly upset she was nearly killed."

The group nodded their agreement. All that was left was to wait for tomorrow.

Draco stood on the school grounds, soaking up the cold morning sun before being confined to the small room on the third floor. He turned from the sun and looked across the pavement. Dudley was thundering towards him with a group of heavy set, ugly boys behind him.

At that moment Draco sorely wished he had not sent Crabbe and Goyle inside ahead of him. Dudley got as close as he could, leaning over his fat to get his face next to Draco's. The heir pulled away, repulsed.

"Did you just try to snog me?"

Dudley made a noise, "No way, poof. I'm here to tell you that you hurt my mum real bad and now she's cryin' and in the hospital and you and your little friends are gunna' get it."

"Get what?"

"Beat up, that's what."

Draco repressed an eye roll, "If you lay one fat ringed finger on me you will be expelled so fast your gut will still be jiggling."

Dudley turned red, "You launched a rocket at us."

"Accident, we had the launch site cleared within a hundred meters and you entered at your own risk."

Dudley raised a fist to punch him.

The arm was snatched from the air and Dudley was turned around, squealing.

"What in the name of Queen Elizabeth were you about to do?" Madam Acreson bent over to look him squarely in the eye.

He stammered and slobbered a little and teared up.

"Master Malfoy, what was going on here?"

Draco pouted his bottom lip and batted his long black lashes, "He tried to hit me Madam, thank-you for stopping him, oh thank-you. He accused me of attacking him last night when he and his mother wandered on to our grounds. Oh Madam, it was awful frightening."

She tsked loudly and glared at the large boy in her grasp, "Dudley Dursley you are in for a serious punishment, you know better than to threaten younger students. Apologize this instant."

Dudley stammered something akin to an apology and Madam Acreson excused Draco. The blonde walked past her and shot the older boy a smirk over his shoulder. He walked into the warm building and up the stairs, smirking the whole way.

"What's got you so giddy?"

"Dursley just tried to attack me and got caught. My money's on a month of detention."

"So long?"

"I pouted," Draco said and his friends all "oh'd" appropriately.

"Is he still mad about the incident last night?"

"Very upset," Draco nodded and saw Potter walk in. He was very tired looking, probably up all night hearing his Uncle rant.

"Excuse me," he left his friends to their talk and approached the boy.

"Harry?"

He turned sharply and stepped away from the blonde. They were, surprisingly, about the same height though Draco weighed more for being fed regularly.

"Yes?" Harry lowered his eyes.

"I would like to apologize," he said and the green eyes rose again to look at him strangely.

"For what?"

"Any trouble our…adventure last night may have caused you. I presume there was some panic at your home and you probably did not sleep much. We were not intending to bald your aunt, it sort of, ah, happened," he smiled.

"My Uncle got very upset…he wanted to sue you," Harry's eyes wandered, "But Aunt Petunia wouldn't let him. She thinks it would be better to have something…to, ah, how did she say it? Oh, hold over your family's head so you stay nice to her."

Draco raised his brows, "I shall have to tell my mother. Thank-you."

"Don't let anyone know I said anything. If my Aunt finds out I'm dead."

"I won't," he promised and smiled again. "Would you like to meet my friends?"

Harry nodded shyly and Draco led him over.

"Everyone," they turned, "This is Harry Potter. Harry, these are all my friends; Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and that one there is Theo."

"Hi," Harry waved awkwardly.

Blaise stood and approached him. "Hi." He said and put his face very close to the other boy's.

"Hello," Harry said again but did not pull away from the African.

Blaise blinked at him and broke into a smile, "I like him. Are you going to keep him Draco?"

"He is not a pet Blaise, he is a friend."

"Seems like a scared puppy to me," Blaise drew away, standing up to his feel height and crossing his long arms.

"I am not," Harry insisted and fell silent again.

Blaise smiled, "I like him a lot."

"Why don't you invite him over for tea someday?"

"That would be nice," Draco said, "Harry, would you like to join us for tea this Sunday?"

Harry nodded, "I have to ask my relatives, I don't know if they'll allow it…"

"They will."

"I'm sure."

"How could they not?"

"Social climbers will do anything-"

"Honestly I don't see wh-"

The conversations grew and Draco moved Harry a few steps away.

"Check with your Aunt and we'll see you on the hill."

Madam entered and Harry was forced back to his seat in the front.

"What?"

"Draco has invited me to his house for tea this Sunday, is it all right if I go?" Harry repeated for the third time.

Petunia, in her new wig, looked at him with a small eye twitch, "Why did he do that?"

"We are in the same class, Aunt Petunia, and we speak sometimes. We're friends, sort of."

"You are?" she raised her penciled in eyebrows.

"Yes ma'am," he nodded.

"I see," she looked at her husband and he just grunted back at her. "Well, if you don't do anything despicable in the mean time, I suppose that is okay. I'll walk you up to make sure Mrs. Malfoy is okay with this."

"Thank-you Aunt Petunia," he nearly smiled at her but stopped himself and backed out of the living room and into the hallway again.

He turned to the empty house and grinned.

"Who?"

"His name is Harry, he is Mrs. Dursely's nephew and he is in my year and class and I think he's fascinating," Draco said.

"Is he?"

"Oh yes," Draco nodded, "He is."

Narcissa, from where she stood at the window, could see the earnest, excited glint in the silver eyes of her son. "All right then, he may join you for tea."

"Oh, thank-you mother," he hugged her around the waist and she patted his head.

"Should I arrange for a cake to be made?"

"That would be delightful," Draco smiled, "I'll ask him what his favorite kind is."

"That is very considerate of you Draco," she smiled back at him, "Go finish your arithmetic. Supper will be ready soon."

He began to leave but stopped, "Oh, by the way mother, Mrs. Dursley plans to use the incident last night to keep up a relationship with us."

Narcissa smirked, "Thank-you Draco, I shall keep that tidbit in mind when she escorts her nephew up here this weekend."

"Of course mother," Draco left the room.

"Morning Harry," Draco greeted the boy, "What's your favorite sort of cake?"

Harry stared at him blankly. "What do you mean?"

Draco considered something for a moment, "I suppose I should start with 'Are you allowed to come for tea on Sunday?'"

"Yes, I am."

"Good," Draco nodded, "Mother thought to have a cake made and I want to know what kind you like."

"Of cake?"

"Yes."

"I don't know."

Draco gave him a very strange look, "How can you not know?"

"I've never had cake before."

"Really?"

"Really," Harry pushed open the door to their classroom.

"Well then," Draco thought, "What kind _sounds_ best? Chocolate, raspberry, vanilla, fudge, carrot or coconut cream?"

Harry pondered too, "I think any of those would be fine."

"Come on, you're our guest, choose one, please?" Draco pouted his bottom lip just a little.

"Okay," Harry relented quickly, "Ah, fudge sounds good, Dudley had it for his birthday one year and said it was amazing."

Though this made Draco a little suspicious he let the comment go, "That sounds excellent."

Harry nodded, "We can have any kind you want really, it doesn't matter to me."

"No," Draco shook his head, "It is your choice."

"Freck."

"What?"

"Sir Arthur Freck of the Society for Interesting and Ancient Artwork," the man stuck out his hand.

Lucius moved his brandy glass into the other hand and shook the offered one.

"Can I help you?"

"I was informed that you may have some interesting and or ancient artwork," he smiled.

Lucius glanced over his shoulder at the walls of his manor, "Who told you such a thing?"

The man cocked his head to the side, trying to think of a response, "Well, such a wonderful, old home would surely belong to an older family and they would surely have some interesting and or ancient artwork. I came here on a hunch, really."

Lucius felt someone behind him and glanced over his shoulder again to see his wife. The shadows and moonlight made her haunting.

"My dear Sir Freck," she smiled, "I've been expecting you."

His face drained of blood. "Y-You have?"

"Of course," one of her hands slid up over Lucius' shoulder and along his arm until she reached his brandy glass. "I've been so, restless, since I heard you were coming."

Freck took a step away, "I-I wasn't aware you knew I was coming."

"Oh," she took the glass and raised it to her lips, "I've known for a very long time, ages in fact."

Lucius suppressed his smile as the man grew more fearful looking.

"H-how did you know?" Three steps back, off the main step of the porch.

"I have my ways," she smirked.

He took another step, "It seems I have to go," without anything more he turned and walked, very quickly, down the rest of the steps and away from the house.

"You're twisted, mother," they turned to see their son, in the hall with an armful of books.

Narcissa laughed, "He works for a trashy tabloid based in London."

"Then why did you scare him off like that?"

"He wanted photos for a story of how we live in luxury while giving nothing back to society."

Lucius closed the door and looked at his wife oddly, as his son was doing.

Narcissa shook her head, "Don't worry about it."

"Won't," the men answered at once.

"Can I have my brandy back?" Lucius asked.

Narcissa took a sip, "No."

"But 'Cissa," he pursued her out of the main hall and into her study.

Draco watched them go, both disgusted and amused.

* * *

**That's Chapter 3.**

**I do apologize for the delay, it was big and dumb and gross and I'm sorry. I had AP's, Prom, Tech week for the One-Acts and now school ends in two weeks so things may or may not get done. I can't be sure. : ) **

**I have more written, promise, it just may be a few whiles before it's up. Same with my other stories. haha.  
Prom was good, I have a link to my photobucket in my profile so you can me, at prom, yeah, it was fun. That's all.**

LOVE  
FireStorm


	4. Chapter 4

"Good afternoon young Master, you must be Master Potter," one of the servants smiled warmly, "And you must be Mrs. Dursley."

"I am," she nodded, "Harry is here for tea with the other children and I-"

"Ah yes," the servant, a young man, interrupted her, "The young Masters and Mistress Parkinson are in their lounge. I shall escort you there. Thank-you for bringing young Master Potter up here, Mrs. Dursley, but you may go home now."

He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He and Harry walked down the marble steps and began to cross the lawn.

Petunia stood on the porch watching them go, almost angry but mostly insulted. She turned on her heel and began her way back down the hill to her home. Behind her the door opened silently and a boy in a dark jacket slid out and leapt across the lawn, catching the servant and Harry by surprise.

"You may return to the house, Laurence," Draco said and the servant nodded and walked away. "Hi Harry."

"Hi Draco," the green-eyed boy smiled at him.

"Aren't you excited for tea?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, "Where are we going, exactly?"

"Our secret hideout, it is not too secret since Mother and Father know about it…that is unfortunate but so be it."

"Where is it?"

"Underground."

Harry, wide-eyed, followed him into the woods and to the knotted old tree that disguised their entrance.

"Really?"

"Of course," Draco opened the door and stepped in, "Come on."

The elevator slid down and came to rest at the bottom and opened into the pretty, well kept lounge. Blaise and Pansy were playing chess near where Crabbe and Goyle flipped through television channels with Theo scrunched between them with a large book. Near the small kitchen Ron was standing with a cup of sugar, stirring it into a tea cup.

"Oh, hello," he spotted them first and moved from behind the counter.

"Hello," everyone chorused and stood.

"Hi," Harry smiled.

"Harry, this is Ron Weasley, we've been attending school with him since the beginning."

Ron held out his hand, "Nice to meet you Harry."

"Hello," Harry shook his hand.

"I will get everyone's tea ready, how do you take yours Harry?"

"Just plain will be nice, thank-you," he smiled and carefully seated himself on one of the comfortable dark couches. Draco sat next to him and the television flipped off.

"And I shall get our snacks," Blaise followed Pansy to the small kitchen. "What do you think of him?" he asked her in a hushed voice.

"He is quiet, like Theo, but I like him so far. You?"

Blaise smiled while cutting the cake, "He is quite interesting, I think he will be a wonderful addition to our group."

Pansy nodded, "I cannot wait to see how he evolves as he grows up."

Blaise nodded too, "It will be most interesting," he took the trays of cakes and sandwiches and carried them to the central coffee table where he set them down. "This is quite the feast." He commented and Draco nodded.

"Mother insisted," he said and his friends smiled.

"Do you always do as your mother says?" Ron asked, seating himself and smirking.

"He's her little angel," Pansy taunted and the others joined in.

"I have never met Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, "Is she nice?"

"Very pretty, very sweet," Crabbe said and looked towards the door, "I'm always expecting her to walk through the door and smack us all for being troublesome."

"She only did that once."

"And that was because we deserved it."

"I hardly think that a little rope swing was deserving of that." Blaise countered.

"It was indoors-"

"And made of bed sheets-"

"And a serving tray."

"That's not the point," Blaise persisted. "The point is that a swing was hardly worth getting smacked."

"We secured it to rafters using spears and a pair of rocket engines." Pansy said, almost shocked.

"Yes, well," he huffed, "It was fun."

"That's not why she hit us though,"

"Her intentions were never clearly stated."

"That is true."

The banter continued, picking up new threads of conversation and then changing. Harry listened and only chimed in once or twice and when he did they all looked at him approvingly. Ron spoke quite a bit and he seemed more human than some of the other children present. Perhaps it was their maturity and their social position that made Harry think of them as characters instead of real people.

Slowly the conversation silenced.

"It's a quarter past five," Pansy said with a glance to the clock. "Dinner will be served in an hour."

"I should start walking home," Ron said, "I'll not get fed if I'm late and don't finish my chores."

"I'll see you out," Draco stood and escorted him to the elevator after everyone said good-bye.

"That was wonderful," Goyle said in reference to the cake, "Nice choice Harry."

Harry, on his third piece, blushed and smiled, "It is really good."

Pansy smiled at him. "Next time we shall have to have a variety of pastries."

"Mmm," Harry approved, "That sounds great."

SCHOOL

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Mrs. Dursley…she's been replaced."

"Oh?"

"By the Weasley's mother, Molly."

"I had no idea."

"Yes, quite the upset. Petunia stormed out of the PTA meeting and called the Head Master and threw a fit."

The female teachers stood in a circle in the faculty lounge. They had mugs of coffee warming their hands and interested looks on their faces as the school secretary told them.

"I heard Mr. Carter told her the PTA was none of his business and their petty power struggles did not interest him."

"Oh, I was there when she called," the secretary said, she was also his wife, "The woman ranted for near on twenty minutes about how the school would go bankrupt without her fundraiser ideas and support and how if he didn't reinstate her immediately she'd take her son out of the school and so on and so forth."

"And?"

"He said it wasn't his business and their petty power struggles did not interest him." The woman laughed, "He also told her that she could pull her son out of the school at any time and no one was stopping her and VA will hardly go bankrupt if he doesn't attend anymore."

They laughed again.

"She won't pull him out though," Dudley's teacher said with a sigh. "That woman is too preoccupied with getting on the Malfoy's good side she'd never intentionally ruin her only way of getting at them."

"God," another teacher agreed, "If she would lay off the ladder climbing for ten minutes she would see how horribly unhealthy her son is."

Madam Lavore shook her head, "And the nephew, Harry, he's so thin and sad looking." The women cooed sadly, "But I saw him sitting with Draco Malfoy and his group of friends. I think they've taken him under their wing."

They all smiled.

"That's so nice."

"Splendid."

"I do hope he succeeds."

"Oh I think he will."

They twittered on until the clock notified them that it was nearly time for classes to begin. Madam Lavore walked the halls and found her classroom, peeking in the glass plate she saw Harry sitting proudly with Ron in the back row, his books piled on one side and Draco sitting on the desk chatting away with the other friends surrounding.

"Class," she said as she entered. Draco slid from the desk and into his chair and the other students spread out and sat down, "Today is a very special day."

"Why?"

"Today is the day students have their fist choir recital," she smiled. By November the children had already learnt seven songs.

"Oh joy," Blaise muttered.

"Shut up," Draco nudged him, "We must be supportive of our school mates."

"What?"

"I'm trying the 'sweet and supportive' thing for a while. Mother says it will help me make friends."

"What do you care? We're going to Hogwarts in three years and you have us, and Harry now, what do you need commonfolk for?"

"So people will think I am a young community leader."

"Lame."

"No it is not," Draco protested and clasped his hands on the desk before him.

"It is too," Blaise hissed back and clasped his hands the same way, imitating his friend.

"Stop it Blaise, you are being immature."

"I'm eight, Drake, of course I am immature."

"You're a Zabini, Blaise, you should have more control of yourself."

"You expect too much."

"Always have," Draco admitted with a small sigh.

"Will you two hens stop clucking?" Ron asked from behind them. He folded his newspaper and set it on his desk. "Madam is trying to get someone to answer her preposterous French questions and no one really speaks it but you two."

"And Pansy, Theo, Greg and Vince," Blaise added and saw those four were involved in other studies.

"Christ," Draco mumbled and listened to her ask the question again, very slowly.

Blaise, also already aggravated by her childish teachings, shouted the answer as well as a less than polite addition.

She smiled, not understanding anything but the basic language, "Good work Blaise, you're doing very well. Maybe you'll be a linguist someday."

Blaise 'oh'd excitedly, like a young woman may do at the sight of a child doing something cute, "Thank-you," he said in the same way.

"Of course," she said and moved right along without sensing the sarcasm.

"Kill me," Blaise grumbled, "I cannot imagine what life would be like if she were my mother."

"First off, she will never have children. Second, if she was your mother it would not matter, you would know nothing else."

"Does not matter," Blaise shrugged it off.

"You said that about your poor mark in gym class too and now look where you are."

"On the remedial golf team? I prefer it there to the uber cricket team you and Theo are forced to be on, and it is far better than the boxing team like Greg and Vince have to put up with. I also prefer golf to dance class or the football team like Pansy and Ron are burdened with."

"Remedial," he stressed the word, "It means 'bad' or 'easy' Blaise."

"That's hardly the correct definition. That is more a colloquial meaning."

"The colloquial and technical definitions mean the same thing; remedial is lesser."

"But your definition is derogatory, almost insulting."

"I have never been in remedial anything, Blaise, what do you expect?"

"Sympathy for those less physically gifted than yourself."

"You're a wonderful fencer Blaise, you have gifts."

"Ah but I don't show them off," he said.

"You show off all the time."

"Shut up, both of you," Ron hissed, "She's gone off into the history of language and I think she got lost between Greek and Arabic."

Draco tuned her in for a moment and heard her going on about the tribes of Arabia and how they traveled the earth, eventually landing in Greece and the local people took their language and mixed it with Arabian and so Greek was born.

He blanched and quickly tuned her back out. "She got very lost," he told Ron and, with that, the redhead opened his newspaper and started doing the crossword.

**:16 June:**

"Thank God," Draco threw himself onto the couch and curled around the pillow he had been given just twelve days prior. It was his birthday gift from Harry and it now decorated one of the couches in the hide out.

"School is out," Blaise rolled over the top of the couch and onto the blonde.

"So nice," Crabbe groaned and spread himself over the half couch not already taken up by Goyle.

"Three and a half months of nothing but this," Theo extended his legs, propped them up on the coffee table and opened the newspaper.

Ron stretched across the floor, resembling a starfish, closed his eyes and smiled, "Ahhhhh," he breathed out and Harry carefully stepped over him.

"What is it you guys do during the summer?"

"This," Blaise said, already falling asleep.

"Nothing but this," Theo said.

"Really?"

"No," Pansy shook her head and brought out a tray of lemonade. "We travel a lot and ride horses, swim, play cricket and football and we study quite a bit."

"In the summer?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Why?"

"If you do not study in the summer, you are wasting valuable time when you could be absorbing knowledge. As you grow older it is more and more difficult to learn new things, do this while you can," Blaise did an imitation of his mother with her high, accented voice.

"Bleck," Draco made the noise from beneath the tall African.

"I have no intention of absorbing anymore knowledge, not until I'm…twenty-five, at least," Blaise said and rolled himself onto the floor, exposing the rumpled beauty.

"You are the fattest person," Draco breathed heavily and fixed his hair.

"Says the walrus."

"Oh, hardly," Draco crossed his legs and took a glass.

Harry settled himself next to Draco and was offered a glass of lemonade.

"Good year, wasn't it?"

"The best," Harry smiled.

* * *

**She's a wee bit late but she's here. I wanted this chapter to be a goody. I think she is, hope you lot agree.**

**This story has gotten an AMAZING response and for that I thank you all very, very much. It's wonderful to have a legion of fans. I'm going to try writing for _Rapid Expansion_ and hopefull I can unblock my mind for another chapter or two...**

**LOVE  
FireStorm**


	5. Chapter 5

**:21 June:**

"Watch you head," Blaise warned as he came flying off the tire-swing, went sailing through the air resembling a drunken bird, and landed in lake. Waves and spray hit everyone else in the water, causing screams and laughter.

"And you call me fat?" Draco asked. He was stretched out on the only sandy part of the lakeside.

Blaise surfaced, threw his black hair from his face and spat out a mouthful of water. "What?"

"Idiot," Draco grumbled.

"Hey, Drake," Blaise called, "You're looking a little red."

"Liar," the blonde yelled back.

"No, really, you are."

"Go drown," he answered and stretched his arms above his head.

Harry laughed and began swimming again.

"Harry, love," Blaise swam up next to him, "How are you?"

"I'm doing all right, Blaise, and yourself?"

"A little pale if I do say so but otherwise I am just fine."

Harry laughed, "I'm glad."

"You know," Blaise began treading water, "You should talk to you aunt about letting you come to Hogwarts School for Young Lords and Ladies."

"She would never let me go," Harry shook his head, "I'm only allowed at VA because of the scholarship and she thinks people would question it if she only sent her son there and not her nephew. Hogwarts doesn't even give scholarships, does it?"

"They do not charge tuition," Blaise said. "Hogwarts is provided for through the donations of rich legacies like us."

"What do you mean?"

"My parents both went to Hogwarts and so did their parents and their parents and theirs. Theo, Drake, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and I are all legacies, we are accepted to Hogwarts because we have had family there since the school was founded."

"Oh," Harry nodded along, "But then wouldn't they expect me to make a donation?"

"No, not at all," Blaise stretched himself across the surface of the water, "Hogwarts' new Headmaster has a thing about accepting people who are not legacies but show great promise and intelligence. Dumbledore, the Headmaster, is really a good man and my mum likes him quite a bit. Draco's father thinks he's letting a lot of riff-raff into the school. I mean, the Weasley's got in, there must be riff-raff."

Ron, from where he sat on the tire swing, shook his fist. He climbed the ladder, swung off, over the lake and dive-bombed the two. Draco was splashed again and in his rage he stood up, whipped off his sunglasses and screamed, "Stop splashing me or I'll have you all roasted on a spit!"

They stopped dead and waited until the blonde calmed down.

"Harry, you really ought to apply."

"I don't have to worry about that for three years though-"

"No, now. Some people have had their names on the applicant's list since they got their first good mark."

"Serious?" Harry frowned and followed Blaise on a lap around the lake.

"There's an incredibly prestige in attending Hogwarts Harry. Not only is it the best school in England, no, it has been named the best school in all of Europe. People dream of the life led by students at Hogwarts. The culture and the people and tradition there, it is incredible and people dream about it, Harry. If you go to and graduate from Hogwarts, you have a free ticket to the world, a backstage pass to a society of wealth, class and perfection."

"That's…wow, I didn't realize."

"You think all kids have private lakes in their backyard?" Blaise said and behind him loomed the grand Malfoy Manor, sitting proudly on a hill and gleaming in the midday sun.

"I knew that but…I had no idea that you and…they live in that kind of world."

"This kind of world Harry, you're part of it now."

"Am I really?" Harry

"You've been our friend for what…nine months now? Draco has you over so often the servants have stopped calling you Master Potter, we all think of you as an equal and a friend…why wouldn't you be part of this?"

"I didn't really count myself as 'one of the gang' but I guess I am."

"Course you are," Blaise began to frog paddle, "Besides, we love you."

"Blaise, I had no idea you felt that way. Give a boy a sign before you spring that sort of thing on him." Harry paddled alongside him.

"Come off it Harry, you knew that." Blaise dived underwater and surfaced, "What is my hair doing?"

"Sitting and being wet," Harry said, "It's going to go insane soon though."

"That's what I get for having a Nubian father."

"You're only half black?"

"No, my mother's a Zulu and, as I said, my father's Nubian," he ran a hand through his hair.

"Your mum's Zulu?"

"Full blood."

"And she went to Hogwarts?"

"Proud graduate," he smiled, "She met my father there. She says he was a year older than her and the only African boy in school who had actually lived in Africa. She fell in love with him and when he died I was the only thing she had left. Thus I became the Blaise Zabini you know today."

"Did you know your father?"

"Not really, I was only one and a half when he died."

"That's early."

"He was twenty, died in a plane crash."

"Did your mum ever remarry?"

"Sure, she's on her fourth husband now," Blaise smiled, "The second one died in fire and the third in a ship wreck. This fourth one…well, he's on a trip right now and we're never sure what's going to happen."

"Your fathers don't have much luck with traveling, do they?"

"No, not really," he flipped onto his back and continued swimming, "Harry, tell me how you ended up with the twig and the whale."

Harry shrugged, "I was nearly two when my parents were killed. Aunt Petunia doesn't talk about it since my mum was her sister but Uncle Vernon likes to mention how my parents met some dangerous people at that 'good-for-nothing rich kid school' and that's what got them killed."

"Rich kid school?"

Harry nodded, "They haven't told me what school it was, I don't expect they ever will-"

"What's your da's name?"

"James Potter…"

"I knew it, I bloody knew it! Drake, he _is _one of The Potters," Blaise yelled.

"What?"

Draco sat up, "Are you Harry?"

"I-"

"His father's James Potter," Blaise insisted.

"Well then, good thing we found you."

Blaise turned back to Harry, "The Potters are a legacy at Hogwarts."

"They-they are?"

"Come on," Blaise lead him out of the water and onto the sandy little beach. "Now that you are officially a legacy-"

"Explain this to me, I'm lost."

"Your father, James Potter, was killed six years ago by a very dangerous sort of…cult that became real powerful among the high society circle. James refused to join and so they killed him and Lily, we never knew they had a son. Good thing you came 'round, 'eh?"

"Is it weird that you know more about my parents than I do?"

"No, not really," Draco shrugged, "We know more about everyone. I think my mum was in the same year at Hogwarts as your parents, we can ask her later."

"Both my parents went?"

"We're not sure how you're mum got accepted or the surrounding circumstances but we know that's where the met your da. We heard the story."

Harry nodded, "I had no idea."

"Neither did we until a few weeks ago when my mum and Narcissa were having a big discussion of their Hogwarts days and your parents came up."

"Maybe at the school you can learn more about them…meet alumni who knew them better," Draco suggested from where he lay.

"When are you guys sending in you applications?"

Blaise nearly chocked on the lemonade he was trying to drink, "Harry," he coughed, "Part of being a legacy means not having to apply."

"Oh…"

"When was the last time we had to apply or even formally request anything?" Draco asked. "Year Two?" Blaise considered this, "I think then or maybe the year before."

"Since my parents went, do I still have to apply?"

"It'd be best, so they know you're alive and kicking and all that," Blaise said and smiled, "I bet we'll all get sorted into the same house too, wouldn't that be great?"

"All my brothers are in Gryffindor, remember?" Ron asked as he pulled himself up out of the water, "I'll end up there too."

"I could ask Uncle Severus to get you in with us," Draco said, "He'll get you too Harry if you like."

"What?"

"There are four houses at Hogwarts, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. My godfather, Severus, teaches at Hogwarts and is the head of Slytherin. Every Malfoy has been a Slytherin, all our parents were snakes."

"Oh, what about Ron?"

"The Weasleys are Gryffindors and that's probably what your parents were too, their mascot is a lion," Blaise said and Ron nodded and drank some lemonade.

"Very basic, you see," Draco rolled over to tan his back.

"Sure." Harry did not believe him.

**:30 June:**

"This it?"

"Yes, what do you think?"

Blaise read it over, sipped his drink and read it again, "It's a good application essay, and the actual form is available online, we've printed one out and filled in as much as we know."

"Thanks," Harry immediately did not trust the information they put down.

"And we've asked Lucius or Narcissa to write you a recommendation," Blaise added. "That way you'll get in for sure."

"Good," Harry smiled, "I wonder what my aunt will do when she finds out I'm secretly applying to the best school in Europe."

"Have some sort of attack I'm sure," Blaise said and ran a hand through his hair, "How do you feel about Ron?"

"He's really nice and funny, I like him," Harry said and began editing his essay for the eighth time.

"We're having him over tomorrow night for a movie marathon and wanted to make sure there wasn't any bad blood starting up."

"Why would there be?"

"Draco, in all his blonde glory, got worried you two were competing to be the 'fun, loveable chap from down the hill' and of course I smacked him for it."

Harry laughed, "No, Ron and I are great friends."

"Good, I'll smack him again," Blaise nodded and eyed the corrections Harry was making. "Whatcha doing?"

"Making sure this essay is the best it can be," he answered.

"Come off it Harry, you'll get in, why are you acting as if you won't?"

"I want to do the work, I want to earn it and not just get in because I'm a legacy."

"That's a silly idea," Blaise said.

"Do you ever get tired of just…getting everything?"

Blaise looked at him as if he were insane.

"Never mind," Harry focused on his essay.

* * *

**Crap, sorry.**

**I completely forgot I hadn't updated this thing in a while. I feel really bad about it now.**

**If no one has any complaints I don't think I can continue with them at this age. I may skip ahead to when they're at Hogwarts.**

**If you really, really want a chapter or two of anecdotes as they grow up, say so. Otherwise we're skipping three years.**

**Great!**

**LOVE  
FireStorm**

ps. Sorry, again.


	6. Chapter 6

**:Anecdotes:**

"Go on," Blaise used his hip to nudge Harry forward. The black-haired boy gave him a look but shuffled forward. It was nearly three in the morning and Vernon had fallen asleep -or passed out rather- on the couch while Blaise and Theodore were spending the night (Draco was in Krakow with his mother).

Harry turned on the electric razor and, inch by inch, got it closer to his uncle's rather bushy mustache. Blaise nudged him once more and in a swift second half the beast was gone. The three boys gasped and darted back upstairs to the small, wood floored room Harry lived in.

As the door shut they laughed out loud, gasping for air in the cold little room.

"Brilliant."

**:x:x:x:x:**

A trio of kids sat in a tree, the rest spread across the grass below, and most were eating fresh fruit from the tree. Draco was laying along a branch, his legs against the trunk and arms flung over each side, trying to catch some warmth on the breezy spring day. He was growing out his hair and the brilliant white was a contrast to the dark wood of the tree. The peach pit in his hand had gnaw marks on it as Draco was prone to do.

Blaise was one of the other tree-sitters, his back against the trunk and a pile of fruit in his lap and a spread of pits on the ground below him. Needless to say no one was sitting near there. On the ground Theo and Ron were playing chess, Pansy was reading a magazine, Crabbe and Goyle were asleep and snoring, drowning out the bird songs. Harry was in the tree too, watching storm clouds build up on the far horizon. Blaise's house, a two story mansion that was set into a large hill and guarded by three lions statues, was nearby and waiting to welcome them back inside.

They had been given a name by the teachers, sort of a gang name, mostly just an easy way to reference them: The Winter Children. Oddly enough it did not seem to apply to all the other kids from the area. Everyone knew Draco was the Winter Child though it seemed that many of the kids were giving him a new epithet: The Ice Prince.

**:x:x:x:x:**

"Give it!" Draco was flying through the air before he landed on Harry.

A shrill scream emitted from the victim as he fell to the floor and tried to defend his prize. Draco's pillow, the one he'd received for his tenth birthday, was worn already but still very dear to him. It had been the last item on the scavenger hunt list and Harry was successful.

It ended with Harry straddling the blonde, holding the pillow out of reach. Draco pouted his bottom lip and got a smug grin from Harry.

"I won."

"Nooooo," he whined and reached his hands up for his beloved pillow, "Potter," he said in the same voice, "Please."

Harry could hardly stand his ground when faced with the big gray eyes, "Fine, you little baby," he handed it over.

Blaise walked in, burdened by equipment, "You're a huge pushover." He told Harry and set down the bag.

"What's all that?"

"Our newest trick," he said and showed them.

"We're going to jump off the roof?"

"Exactly," Blaise showed them the plans. Generally they were excited, scared but excited and eager to see if it worked. "The lightest two are the ones to 'fall' so…"

They all looked at Harry and Draco.

"What?" Harry gaped at them, "Me."

"Us?"

"Of course," Blaise said, "You two are lightest and it would sure as hell make your mum scream, Draco."

"She'll be really upset," Pansy cautioned.

"Of course she will, that's part of the fun," Blaise smiled.

"You do remember the swing incident, right?"

"Course I do," Blaise said, "But this time she'll be so relieved her baby is okay, she won't get mad."

"And we're going to do this at a garden party?" Draco examined the plans drawn on blue print paper. Blaise, being the artistic and mathematical genius he was, had drawn up very realistic, very complex images of their equipment. A reel to be bolted to the bar end of the house, a small, plastic tube for the wire to run through over the top edge of the house so it would not break, harnesses with several places for the wire to attach, even a emergency bungee cord to be attached to the house.

"You're absolutely nutters."

"It's a brilliant sort of nutters," Blaise said in his own defense, "Now, hear me out," he pointed, "We build these, right?"

**:x:x:x:x:**

"I cannot believe I'm doing this," Draco adjusted the safety jacket and harness underneath his shirt. The lines were threaded through the safety pipe and back over to where the kids were standing on the other side of the roof. They could hear the chatter and laughter from the late spring garden party the Malfoys were hosting. Harry waited as Theo checked over his jacket, the industrial strength wire and the safety bungee.

"Harry's ready," he said and Blaise tugged at the all the connections on Draco.

"Blondie's ready too," he smiled.

Draco was nervous but they had practiced a great number of times. The exact time he would turn, in which direction, how fast and how far. It was like a ballet, they would run to the peak of the roof, laughing about something and he and Harry would keep running down until they 'slipped' and fell off the top story of the manor.

Pansy, from where she was observing everything, gave them the go ahead.

A half second later they were scaling the roof and laughing. The party guests looked up and smiled at the children having fun. Draco watched as he and Harry continued down the other side. He saw Harry take his fall and begin to slid down and Draco took his, flipping over so he was on his stomach. He sensed himself fly off the edge of the house to a second wave of gasps, Harry had slipped off just a half second prior. The sensation of falling like that was insane. The wind rushing past his ears and the sky above him and bottomless feeling, he glanced over and saw Harry flying through the air, head first and terrified.

"Relax," he said but the wind took the words from between them.

Harry seemed to know he had spoke and he looked at the blonde, startled and saw Draco's smirk and he nodded just a little and calmed himself.

The sharp jerk of the line on his jacket, the wrenching as it stopped his fall and the jacket dug into his skin, grabbing him violently. Draco swung out as his legs came under him and then he swung back, nearly hitting the house.

Harry was stopped at his level, a few meters above the ground. Lucius realized their trick and laughed, proud of his son and most of the guests realized it to be a trick. Narcissa had a 'you'll pay for this later' look on her face as the other kids hauled their two friends back onto the roof.

**:x:x:x:x:**

"Acceptance letters," someone shouted and the group sat up. It was June again. They were eleven this year, ready to leave for Hogwarts. In walked Narcissa, smiling proudly and holding a stack of envelopes. She handed them out, "Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Vincent, Gregory, Theodore, Ronald," she smiled at the last one, "Harry."

He took the letter and carefully opened it.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**

**For YOUNG LORDS and LADIES**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of the King, First Class, Grand Knights, Chf. Head Master,  
__Supreme Educator, International Confed. of Head Masters)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School for Young Lords and Ladies. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins September 1. We await your response by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

_Minerva McGongall_

Minerva McGongall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry smiled at the letter and found his supply list with the same large name printed at the top.

Uniform:

First-year students (male) will require:

Five pairs black trousers  
Five long sleeved white shirts (with collars)  
Two pair dress shoes  
Winter cloak (black)  
Casual Clothes  
One tuxedo with tie or bow tie.

Course Books

All students are required to have a copy of the following:

_The Standard Book of Etiquette _By Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Upper Class Society _by Bathilda Bagshot

_Social Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Etiquette _by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Faux Pas _by Phyllida Spore

_Fantastic Parties and How to Throw One _By Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to a Healthy Lifestyle _By Quentin Trimble.

Other Equipment

1 address book  
1 camera  
Paper  
Pens  
Pencils  
A family crest or personal symbol (for sealing letters)  
First-year students may bring a cat OR a bird OR a small dog (no larger than a shiatsu)

**NOTE TO FIRST-YEAR PARENTS: **Children are not allowed to have their own horses shipped to the school, horses will be provided for them.

Harry smiled at that. Draco saw that and pouted his bottom lip, "Can we have Ripp shipped to the school next year?"

Narcissa nodded, "Of course darling."

"I wonder if the polo teams are any good," Blaise said and smiled.

"I cannot imagine they would be anything but good," Draco said, "I mean, dear God, did you see the record posted in the paper? They beat out every school in Europe."

The group nodded.

"So how are you going to tell your aunt?"

**:x:x:x:x:**

"Ma'am?" Harry slid inside the house. He was taller now and better fed from all the time at Draco's and Ron's houses.

Petunia looked up, "What?"

"You've heard of Hogwarts School for Young Lords and Ladies, right?"

She glared at him, "Yes."

"I've been accepted there," he said her eyes went wide. Her thin lips pressed together and her cheeks flushed red.

"What?"

"I got the letter today," he held out the first one, keeping his supply list safe in case she went nutters.

She snatched it from his hand and read it over, "I never expected they'd want you too," she spat, "How did they find us? We never reported a change of address and," she growled, "No, you're not going."

"Why not?"

His time with the Winter Children had given him some confidence, some reasoning abilities and a wicked wit.

"Because I won't let you go."

"That's not a reason."

"Yes it is."

"No, it's crap," he said and crossed his arms, "Why can't I go?"

Petunia tore the letter in half, "I will not pay so that you can become a brat."

Harry smirked, "It's free."

"I-" she stopped, "No."

"Too late," he said, "I sent in my answer already, I'm officially enrolled as a student."

Her eyes went wide again and then rolled back into her head. She fell to the floor and Harry walked up to his room, smiling.

* * *

**Woo! Little stories about their time in between. I just wrote in some adventurous, cute things that evolved them a smidge. I hope it works for you lot.**

**NOTE: The acceptance letter is fairly similar to the one in _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_** **and I don't own any of the names or the formatting of that thing or anything. **

**I felt that was necessary so I didn't get smacked.**

**I know this is a wierd day to update, usually I do it on Fridays but I felt it would be unfair to leave it for another week. HERE!**

**LOVE  
FireStorm**


	7. Chapter 7

**:Malfoy Manor:**

"Harry, how are you?" Narcissa was standing by the front door, dressed like any mother and holding the morning paper.

Harry had hardly ever seen her dressed so normally, a knee-length skirt and blouse, usually she was in very high fashions and draped in exquisite things but not today.

"I'm fine, ma'am, how are you?"

She smiled at him, "I'm quite happy today, Harry, because you, Draco and I are going to Diagon to get school supplies."

"Excited to fawn on Draco?"

He and Lady Malfoy had fallen into a habit light banter and inside jokes. He was there often enough she considered him her second son and he did not mind. If he was going to have a replacement mother, Lady Malfoy was definitely a good one to have.

"Draco is the one who suggested we bring you too, knowing full well it will divert attention from him," she said and they walked into a sitting room.

Draco was in one of the chairs, grinning at a tall, black haired man who was sitting with Lucius on the couch. He had sallow skin and a hooked nose, black eyes that seemed perpetually angry and he was rigid. Harry was almost scared of him but more curious.

"Harry, this is Severus, Draco's godfather and one of the teachers at Hogwarts."

The man stood, "Professor Severus Snape, I teach literature and writing courses."

Harry shook his hand, "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

Draco stood and came up beside his godfather, "Harry is a wonderful writer, uncle."

Snape nodded, "I read his entrance essay, well done indeed."

Harry blushed, "Thank-you, sir."

"You will need to work on your penmanship, however."

Harry nodded quickly, "I know, sir, it's nowhere near as good as Draco's or Blaise's even."

Snape gave a small nod, "You will learn," he said.

Narcissa smiled from where she stood near the door, "The boys and I are going to get school supplies, you two talk," she said and smiled at her husband.

Lucius nodded and Snape reseated himself.

Draco gave his godfather a hug, his father a kiss on the cheek and walked over to Harry. "Come on."

**:Diagon Alley:**

"We'll have you both fitted first," she pulled them into a shop selling the formal clothing necessary for the school.

The owner rushed forward and curtsied to Lady Malfoy, "Good morning madam," she saw the two boys, "For Hogwarts?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Trousers, shirts, jumpers, ties, winter cloaks and tuxedos."

The owner nodded and began pulling clothes from the huge, teetering piles. She measured them all over, had them both try on several trouser styles, shirt styles and jumpers. She and Narcissa discussed colors, fits, and even shades of black for the trousers.

Harry smiled as Draco got seven pairs of trousers, nine shirts and twelve ties. He insisted on getting more clothes than necessary. They found shoes and tried on cloaks, Draco ended up with three, and then it came time to try on tuxedos.

It was a grueling hour later that they settled on the desired dress attire.

"We'll just need new clothes next year," Harry reminded him and the blonde shrugged.

"We always need new clothes, love."

Harry rolled his eyes and watched Lady Malfoy hand the owner a few bills and a butler took the bags and followed them out the door. They got books, writing supplies and trunks to put everything into as well as shoulder bags for everyday usage.

Narcissa ushered them, last, into a small shop with animals in cages and a large glass case full of puppies running around. She smiled to the boys.

"Choose one."

Draco ended up with a puppy, a weird little mix between a black wolf and Siberian husky with brilliant blue, almost white eyes; he named the pup Night. Harry got a snow white kitten, affectionately called Snowball. Draco decided that they were both highly uncreative when it comes to naming things.

**:King's Cross:**

"Welcome to Platform Nine and Three Quarters," Draco smiled and pushed open a door nearly hidden from all the other people at the station.

They were on the far side of the tracks; they had to use a private elevator and a hidden sky-bridge to get there.

"What?"

Harry stepped through and saw the private platform. All sorts of kids were standing around, yelling to each other, saying hello to their friends and good-bye to their families. He saw Ron and the Weasley, most of whom he had never met, and he saw kids he did not know and only caught a glimpse of Snape as he stood with the other teachers.

Harry and Draco, a butler in tow with their trunks, reached the train. Draco had Night in his arms and Snowball was perched on Harry's head, decidedly helping his balance and posture.

"Hello," Pansy smiled and noticed the pets, "Presents?"

"Of course," Draco introduces the new additions as Blaise walks up with a baby hawk in a cage.

They greeted him and made sure their trunks were secured in the holding area and made their way onto the train. A compartment was easily found and they settled in, setting their new pets on the floor to play with one another.

"Excuse me," the door slid open, "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost his," she was thin and strange. Her hair was frizzy and looked even less kept than Harry's and her front teeth were too large and her eyes seemed squashed and all out of proportion with the rest of her face.

Draco cocked his head to the side and the hawk, Hunter, copied him, "We've seen no amphibians."

She nodded, looked at them all for a moment and began to leave, a light blush tinted her cheeks as if she were embarrassed. She stopped, took a deep breath and turned back to them, "I'm Hermione Granger."

Blaise and Draco exchanged looks, "We've never heard of the Granger family."

"Oh, my parents are dentists," she explained and they nodded.

"Ron Weasley," he stood and offered his hand, she shook it and blushed again.

Draco and the other Winter Children just greeted her from where they sat and Harry had the distinct feeling they disapproved of her. She stood in the door for a moment before she began to back out before she spotted Night.

"What breed of dog is that?"

Draco lifted one eyebrow and informed her.

"He'll be too big, you're not allowed to have dogs larger than a-"

"I know," Draco stopped her, "And I really don't care."

She turned red.

It seemed that she knew they did not want to be her friend so she opted to be a pain in the arse, "The Head Master will be angry."

"Hardly."

Blaise reached out and stroked the young hawk and both glared at her, as if they shared feelings. "Listen, Hermione, I think you should leave."

She glowered and left, the door still open.

"Enemy number one, made," Pansy wrote it on a little slip of paper and they all smirked.

* * *

**Short, I know, oh, so short and utterly pointless but! Hermione has been introduced and...that's it.**

**I'm sorry.**

**It's not a very good chapter but I'm leaving for a week and I wanted to give you something so you wouldn't be left utterly defensless and alone in the big, cold, scary world.**

**That's it, mostly, I'm still planning to anecdote their first...four years at Hogwarts and pick up again when they're fifteen and beginning to 'explore their feelings for one another' and we'll see how it goes.**

**WOOO**

**LOVE  
FireStorm**


	8. Chapter 8

"Good evening children, new and old, I am Head Master Albus Dumbledore and I would like to welcome you all to a new year at Hogwarts School for Young Lords and Ladies. This promises to be a challenging and exciting year and I hope to see you all grow as people and as high ranking members of society." He was an old man sporting a long beard and half-moon spectacles on a long nose. Something about him was warm and friendly, almost normal and Harry was comforted by him.

They were standing in the middle of a huge feast hall filled with five long, dark wood tables. Four were on the main floor and the fifth was set on a raised platform, facing the heads of the other four. Dumbledore was standing behind this table, in front of a high backed, elegant chair with the Hogwarts crest on it.

He and the other First Years shifted a little, anxious to see what came next.

"Children," he focused his bright blue eyes on them, "Minerva will call your names and your new house."

Harry wondered momentarily how they chose but they began calling names.

Names went by, most he did not know but some drew whispers of recognition from the other First Years. Bulstrode, Millicent got some whispers though Harry was certain it was mostly because she was homely. Draco visibly cringed when she entered Slytherin, he leaned over to Harry and said, "In three to four years she will be on her knees for every boy in the school."

Harry rolled his eyes, "It'd be hard to have sex with her face in mind."

The Ice Prince smirked and turned back to see Crabbe sorted.

It seemed like forever until Draco came up.

"Malfoy, Draco," the hall was dead silent and Harry knew why. The Ice Prince stepped forward, lifted his chin and looked at the tight woman "Slytherin."

Polite but eager applause rose and Draco, with a confident smile to Harry, walked to the table and sat by his already sorted friends.

**:Flashback:**

"Young Potterwalker, hither come," Blaise was sitting in front of a fire with his palms pressed together and a lot of bright eyeliner.

Harry, confused, played along, "Yes master Bloda?"

Blaise shot him a look and motioned to the seat next to him, "Know you anything of Hogwarts?"

"Some, great master, but if you speak, I will listen." Harry was surprised he was willing to listen to a Blaise-babble as it was called. The African boy loved to talk about anything and everything. Thank God he had a Butterfinger and a glass of milk to tide him over during the sure to be lengthily speech

"At Hogwarts," Blaise crossed his arms. "There are four houses, as you know, and each is represented by a certain creature. Our most noble of houses, Slytherin, is a snake. Hufflepuff is a badger but Ravenclaw is a raven, obviously, and Gryffindor is a lion. There is something you must know about these houses; they have reputations for turning out different sorts of nobility. Ravenclaw has always had more intellectuals, the famous authors and playwrights and such, the philosophers and scholars come from the raven. Hufflepuff, on the other hand, turns out more social butterflies than any other house, they're sweet and social if a little dumb. They blend in with everyone and make friends very easily, that's a plus, they know everyone.

"Now, Gryffindor has a history of alumni who turn out to be…very forceful. They're the ones who go into war zones and win the war or stop it. They're generals, prime ministers, secretary generals and all sorts of 'leader' types. Your parents were Gryffindor, so you know, and you may end up being one too. The Weasleys are all in that house and one of them, Charles, has turned into the leader of a huge Earth Save movement that's sweeping the globe, literally and figuratively." Blaise cocked his head to the side.

"Slytherin, is, I do admit, know for having the most high-born students. People like Draco and the Prince of Wales end up in Slytherin simply because of the social grace and control you learn in our house especially. We're full of people whose parents are lords and kings and dukes and such forth and as such we build strong bonds with each other and present a very united front no matter the political situation of our respective nations. Slytherin is the place where future kings become friends and bring peace to their home countries."

"So you're convincing me to join Slytherin?"

"Sort of," Blaise straightened his legs, "I'm just telling you, we'll support you no matter where you end up."

"Slytherin and Gryffindor are sort of similar, a lot of leaders."

Blaise nodded, "But different sorts of leaders; Gryffindors force themselves into positions as leaders, they're the elected sort, we're the inherited sort of leaders. We are significantly more classy too."

"Are you now?" Harry asked with a chuckle.

"Damn straight we are, it's always classier to inherit it."

Harry laughed out loud, "Is that a fact?"

Blaise nodded.

**:End Flashback:**

"Nott, Theodore…Slytherin," they clapped happily.

"Parkinson, Pansy," a small paused and then, "Slytherin."

She walked, elegantly and gracefully, to her table.

"Patil, Padma…Gryffindor…Patil, Parvati…Gryffindor."

Claps rose and faded and then she looked up, straight at Harry.

"Potter, Harry."

The hall faded as he listened, tensely, for his house to be declared. It felt as if the hall was silent especially for him. It was the longest pause of his life.

"Slytherin."

They applauded and he took great pains to 'glide' over to the table in the most dignified way he knew.

"Way to go, Harry," Draco smiled.

"Thanks," Harry sat down next to him, across from Pansy and a few seats away from Crabbe and Goyle.

It was a few minutes later that Ron came up.

"Weasley, Ronald," the woman, Harry learned later that her name was Professor Minerva McGonagall, glanced up and recognized the latest in the clan, then looked back down and seemed confused but spoke it anyway, "Slytherin."

Three boys, all sitting at the far left table, stood, glaring and watched angrily as their brother walked to the snakes. They all had bright red hair, freckles and pale skin. Harry had met them a few times, there were identical twins, Fred and George, and the older, stick-in-the-mud Percy. They did not say anything but the looks they gave were enough.

Ron sat next to Harry and put his head in his hands, "My mum is going to kill me."

"Why?"

"There's a huge rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin," Draco said, "They think Slytherin is full of kids who take everything for granted and don't have to work for anything. Slytherin thinks of Gryffindor as brash and careless, that they endanger themselves and everyone else, they're reckless and loud and immature."

"Sort of like the twins," Ron said, "But less forgivable."

"Zabini, Blaise," she said over the light chatter that had grown from the two opposing tables. "Slytherin."

The snakes smiled and welcomed him. The darkly skinned boy sat down, leaned over to Ron and kissed his cheek, "We'll be at your funeral."

Ron gave him a shove, "Don't be a twit, Blaise, I won't be killed."

"Says you," Blaise said and looked down at his plate, "I'm hungry."

Dumbledore stood again, "Now that we're all sorted out and," he looked to the older Weasley brothers, "Happy, let the feast begin."

The doors opened and lines of servants dressed in black trousers and vests over white shirts came in carrying trays and trays of food. They spun, side stepped and hopped in a massively choreographed dance to deliver food to the tables. Harry's jaw lowered as they approached his part of Slytherin, the trays were heavy with steaming food and towers of asparagus and mashed potatoes. It was a magnificent display.

Looking up and down the table he could tell which students were fifth years and older, they ate differently, perfectly. He guessed that fourth year brought eating etiquette and so all the older students knew it.

Four years ago the opening feast was the most lavish, exquisite thing in Harry's memory banks. It was not as stunning as First Year, not in fifth year anyway. He watched the servants come in, balancing plates and trays and goblets full of something, on one side was the Ice Prince and on the other was Ronald. Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle were across the table and Blaise on the other side of Ron across from Theo. It was an intriguing few years.

**:First Year:**

"Good morning stude-" McGonagall was cut off when the door burst open and Harry and Ron stepped in.

"Sorry Professor, we were lost in the dungeons."

She gave them a hard look, "Perhaps you should carry a pocket watch," she eyed their uniforms, black trousers, white shirts and ties. The ties were provided by the school after they were sorted to their house and the green and silver ones were 'very eye-catching' as one girl told Draco as she pressed up against him. He calmly reminded her that he was eleven and then he ran.

"Yes ma'am," Harry nodded and sat with Ron at the last open desk, front and center.

She was sitting, straight backed and her hands were carefully placed in her lap. "In this class you will learn basic and not-so-basic etiquette, you will be faced with awkward social situations and less-than-pleasant times and this class will prepare you for that."

The class nodded.

"Later in your career at Hogwarts, however, this class begins to focus on truly refining you as members of society; I will equip you with the dignity and refinement to stand next to your elders in the highest levels of society."

That Granger girl, she was sorted into Gryffindor, raised her hand, "I was wondering, Professor, how exactly do you teach dignity?"

McGonagall peered at the girl through her glasses and then gave a small nod, "It is not simply a matter of teaching, there must be some of it in you already. You would not be here if I or another professor had not seen your potential as a Young Lord or Lady, some," she said this while looking straight at Granger, "Will need more work than," her eyes moved towards Draco, Blaise and Harry in the front and slightly to the left, "Others."

They accepted her answer.

----------

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You really think that?"

"Yes."

"About him?"

"Yes…"

"You, Miss, do not deserve to be able to read," Snape dropped her book onto her desk and walked to the front of the room, "Who knows what is wrong with Miss Granger's analysis of our protagonist?"

Harry lifted one hand.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"She said he was a desperate man; that he really wanted to make it and make himself known but the story does not support such a theory. He wants to survive, that's his goal, and he does not care about being rich or famous. In this story all he wants to do is survive the war. Her analysis makes him seem like a greedy social climber with poor taste but he is really just a man of talent but poor luck."

Snape nodded, "Precisely."

Hermione whipped her head around and glared at him.

"Can anyone provide such a thorough analysis for his love interest, Mistress Board?"

The Winter Children smiled when Blaise was called on.

"Mistress Board is a woman who knows what she wants, she is focused and ruthless." He smiled, "But she rediscovers her softer side when Jonathan enters her life, then she gets mushy and girly and boring."

Snape nodded, "An interesting take on Mistress Board, Mister Zabini, but where is it you decided she gets boring?"

"Once she confesses that she loves Johnny, once she stops being nasty and gets all sweet and cute. She loses her appeal as a character and that's horrid."

Snape almost smirked, "Horrid? Do you not think that she gains a different appeal?"

"She becomes a predictable character, when she was sharp and strong she was also unpredictable. It is her desire to be loved that causes her to become soft and shy and her character becomes like every other female in literature at the time."

"Does everyone agree?"

"I agree with his take on her change of personality but I do not believe she becomes boring. I believe that the reader simply has to look harder to see her quirks and personality."

"Explain yourself Mister Potter."

"She is dulled but not destroyed entirely, there are places in the novel, after she falls for Jonathan, where she regains her strong and slightly snarky personality. That side of her character becomes harder to find but it is not as if she is a completely different person."

Snape nodded, "Any other thoughts?"

"Mistress Board is a tease," someone said and a small conversation grew there and spawned several more. The dull rumble forced Snape to gesture threateningly to the student who started it all, Pansy.

**Okay dudes, it was a little slow but I was gone a lot. **

**I'm skimming over First, Second, Third and Fourth years, getting you anecdotes (as I am partial to doing recently) until we get to the good stuff. It'll prolly be the rest of First Year, all of Second and part of Third Year in the next chapter.**

**Great.**

**LOVE  
FireStorm**


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